


And All My Instincts, They Return

by Politzania



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Eventual Smut, Knotting, M/M, No mpreg, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22108168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Politzania/pseuds/Politzania
Summary: As if being an omega lycan SHIELD agent wasn’t tough enough, the anonymous alpha Clint hooked up with for his heat also works for SHIELD and was just assigned as his partner for a challenging mission.   Clint doesn’t know whether to blame or thank Coulson.Warnings:   a/b/o-typical consent issues, non-explicit/fade-to-black sex while in wolf form (Chapter 1); reference to past physical abuse & homophobia (Chapter 3); attempted sexual assault (Chapter 4)WinterHawk Bingo: A/B/O (Chapter 1), Shapeshifter AU (Chapter 2), In Vino, Veritas (Chapter 3), Free Space (Chapter 4), Cuddling/Snuggling (Chapter 5), Riding (Chapter 6)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 104
Kudos: 272
Collections: Winterhawk Bingo





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title: And All My Instincts, They Return  
> WinterHawk Bingo Square Filled: A/B/O (Chapter 1), Shapeshifter AU (Chapter 2), In Vino, Veritas (Chapter 3), Free Space (Chapter 4), Cuddling/Snuggling (Chapter 5), Riding (Chapter 6)  
> Warnings: a/b/o-typical consent issues, non-explicit/fade-to-black sex while in wolf form (Chapter 1); reference to past physical abuse & homophobia (Chapter 3); attempted sexual assault (Chapter 4)  
> Summary: As if being an omega lycan SHIELD agent wasn’t tough enough, the anonymous alpha Clint just hooked up with for his heat is assigned as his partner for a challenging mission. Clint doesn’t know whether to blame or thank Coulson.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Non-explicit (fade to black) sex while in wolf form - hence the Mature rating.

Clint knocked on Coulson’s doorjamb to get his attention. “Yes?”

“I know I just got back from medical leave,” Clint tapped his left ear, “but I need to take a couple more days for ... personal business.” According to what he’d been told, the hearing loss at this point was most likely permanent. He’d been fitted for custom hearing aids, but they wouldn’t be in for another week or so. He was making do with clunky over-the-ear ones in the meanwhile. 

Coulson glanced at the calendar and raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you a little ... early?” 

_Trust Coulson to be so observant,_ Clint thought with a sigh. “Yes, but sometimes stress throws me off schedule.” 

“Understood. Go take care of things and I’ll see you in a week.”

“Thank you, sir.” Clint threw Coulson a sketchy salute and headed down the hall. There were enough lycans working for SHIELD for policies to be in place to deal with their unique biological needs; but despite Coulson being accommodating, it was still awkward to request time off for this particular reason.

At least he didn’t report to Sitwell anymore, who always told him to have a good time with practically a leer on his face. Clint understood why details of their sexual orientation and alignment were a part of every agent’s file, but he didn’t have to like it. Being one of only a few omega agents made it worse, as toxic masculinity was alive and well in the halls of SHIELD. 

For this, and other reasons, Clint chose to spend his heats in his wolf form. He didn’t have to deal with complicated human emotions, or awkward conversations. It was simple, anonymous animal desire, nothing more. There were sanctuaries scattered across the country, protected parklands where lycans could spent time in their wolf form, responding to their various biological drives. Clint had a membership at the closest one in upstate New York, which also gave him rights at the other locations. 

Getting up early the next morning, Clint caught a flight to Albany, then rented a car for the two hour drive into the Adirondacks. It wasn’t the most enjoyable trip, as not only had the fever and chills of his pre-heat kicked in, sitting for a couple of hours was not exactly comfortable in his current condition. 

He checked in at the sanctuary, got a locker (the touchpad was large enough for noses or paws to punch in a code) and left a note on the community billboard: “Omega male looking for alpha male heat partner. No commitment desired.” Clint included a dot of scent from his bonding gland to make it easier to find him. Most lycans used the sanctuaries as hunting grounds, satiating that drive to stalk their prey — something Clint got enough in his day job — but there were a few notes from alphas looking for rut partners. 

Shifting was always painful, but at least it was something under his control, even if his heat wasn’t. After securing his clothing and other belongings in his locker, Clint headed out into the woods towards the mating dens. It felt good to lope along the forest floor and breathe in the fresh air with its myriad of scents. However, his newly-acquired hearing loss seemed even more acute in his wolf form, and he struggled to not stop and paw at his ear. 

The mating dens were deserted; a small blessing. Clint let out a few howls to alert any alphas in the area as to his availability, then curled in around himself as cramps wracked his guts. Clint’s quiet whimpers were eventually answered by a snuffling outside the den he had taken shelter in, followed by a questioning whine. He whuffed a welcome, and an unfamiliar alpha made his into the den. He moved oddly, and Clint realized he was missing part of his left front leg. However, he was young and handsome and smelled downright enticing, as he was well into his own rut. It was all too easy for Clint to give himself over to their mutual desires, to let this alpha take care of him.

* * *

Clint awoke slowly after their coupling, the warm bulk of the alpha next to him a pleasant surprise. Most of the other alphas he’d spent previous heats with left once they’d gotten what they came for. He felt a soft lick against his muzzle, and opened his eyes to see a startling pair of blue-grey eyes looking back at him through the dimness of the den. Even though he’d made sure to eat a hearty meal before shifting, Clint was hungry after their exertions, and his stomach rumbled. He started to get up, but the alpha nudged him back down, getting to his feet instead. With a reassuring yip, he left the den to hunt for them both. 

In the alpha’s absence, Clint couldn’t help but wonder if his heat partner’s missing limb was due to an accident or something he’d been born with. It didn’t seem to matter, as he returned in just a little while with a fat, freshly killed rabbit. They made short work of it between them, then another unexpected but welcome wave of desire washed over Clint. In the past, a single encounter had been enough to break his heat, but he found himself moving into a posture of invitation once again. The alpha’s nostrils flared, and with a low, almost affectionate rumble, proceeded to take care of both their needs.

* * *

On the last day of his heat, Clint awoke once more to find his companion positioned protectively between him and the wide world. The alpha had gone hunting twice more, demonstrating how well he could provide for a future family. Clint had taken precautions so that wouldn’t happen, of course, but after a couple of days in wolf form, a part of him regretted the decision. And as much as he wanted to stay hidden away from the world with whoever this kind, considerate alpha was, Clint’s responsibilities weighed too heavily on him. So he licked at the alpha’s muzzle in thanks, then slipped outside.

It felt good to stretch his legs after spending the better part of three days in the den; Clint pelted down the path that led back to the entrance to the sanctuary, the fever, chills and cramping of his heat a mere memory. While he was only too happy to leave those elements by the wayside, Clint held the remembrance of how his heat partner had cared for him close to his heart. 

A couple of hours later, Clint lounged on the bed of his hotel room. Just about ten miles from the sanctuary, this mom and pop establishment was a welcome stop for lycans who needed a day or so to transition back into their human mindset after an extended hunt or mating session. 

Clint usually had some bruises and scrapes to tend to after the fact; lycan mating could get a little rough, and more than one alpha had tried to force a bond with him. They learned quickly that just because he was an omega didn’t mean he couldn’t or wouldn’t fight back. 

He had a few love bites this time around, sure, but the alpha had only nosed at Clint’s bonding gland, responding quickly to a warning growl by backing away. His bruises, plus a few minor scratches from overenthusiastic claws were easily tended to before he dug into a large supreme pizza and made a nice dent in a six pack. Clint drifted off to sleep, more relaxed and content than he’d felt in a long time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint’s latest assignment pairs him up with the last person he’d expected to see again - the alpha he’d shared his heat with. But the two of them end up bonding over having to deal with Tony Stark.
> 
> WinterHawk Bingo - Shapeshifters AU

“So, sir, what’s this all about?” Clint was following Coulson at a brisk pace down the hallway. He’d told Clint he had a new assignment that would take him out in the field for somewhere around eight to ten weeks. 

“There’s a mining concern up in Montana that SHIELD does business with. One of our analysts found some discrepancies in their reporting. We need to dig in at a couple of their locations — so to speak — and see if the refined ore is being misdirected.” 

“Am I going in solo?” 

“No,” Coulson replied. “Turns out the analyst has some experience in ops work from his time in the military. And you both being lycans may come in handy as well.” 

Clint tensed -- he preferred to work alone or with someone he already knew; the guy being a shifter would just further complicate the situation. “You know we aren’t actually bulletproof in our wolf form. We just heal faster.”

“I’m aware, Barton,” Coulson replied mildly. “I’m considering the other advantages. Stealth, speed and following scent trails. And the surprise factor. ” He stopped in front of a conference room door and tapped once before twisting the knob.

“In other words, no one expects the Spanish Inquisition,” Clint quipped.

Coulson rolled his eyes at Clint and gestured to the man waiting in the room for them. “Clint, I’d like you to meet analyst James Barnes. James, this is Agent Clint Barton.” 

A pair of familiar grey-blue eyes went wide as Clint mentally cursed Lady Fate. Perhaps a decade younger than Clint, Barnes was about six feet tall, nicely built and the last person Clint had expected to run into again: the alpha from the sanctuary who had been his heat partner. 

“Hey, Barnes,” he managed to say as they shook hands.

“Agent Barton,” Barnes replied, covering his own shock amazingly well. Clint noted his high-tech prosthetic left hand, probably a piece of Stark tech, if he had to make a guess. 

Coulson glanced curiously between them both. “Have you two met before?” 

“Yes, but only briefly.” Clint blinked in appreciation at Barnes’ quick-witted, discreet response.

“Ah. Well, let’s get started.” The three of them spent the better part of the afternoon going through the information Barnes had uncovered as well as background on the company and the remote northern plains location. There was definitely something fishy going on, and the stuff these mines were producing -- mostly ending in -ium -- wasn’t the kind of thing you wanted to see going astray. 

“Before we wrap things up, there’s something I want to make clear,” Coulson said, placing both hands on the table. “Agent Barton is the lead on this operation. What he says in the field, goes. Will that be a problem, Barnes?” 

“No, sir.” His response was solemn and sincere, and Coulson seemed reassured; however, Clint wasn’t quite sure what to think. While he already had proof that Barnes didn’t act like a typical alpha, he didn’t know how that might impact their work relationship. For that matter, Clint wasn’t sure he could keep their previous encounter out of his own mind. 

They went through another few days of preparation before they could head out on their mission. The plan was for both of them to get hired on with the mining company: Barnes in the office and Clint in custodial, as these were ideal positions for them to get their hands on paperwork. Then they’d head out to the mines themselves for some sniffing around - figuratively as well as literally. 

As part of their mission pre-work, Clint and Barnes both had to get comms fitted for their wolf forms. Since most lycans worked solo, SHIELD didn’t have comms sets designed for their particular needs. In addition, Clint’s situation was more complicated, due to his injury; that said, he had scarcely expected Tony Stark himself to get involved.

“I do a bit of consulting with SHIELD and this particular project caught my eye,” Stark explained as Clint and Barnes joined him in an empty lab space. “We figured out some basic measurements to build the prototype, but we’d like to take actual molds of your ears while you’re shifted to get a custom fit. The prototype casing is made out of a kind of putty. I’ll need to push it into your ear and let it set a minute or two. Barton, we incorporated hearing assist tech in your set, so let’s start with you.” Stark held his arms out and made a ‘go on’ gesture. 

“Uh, I’d prefer a bit of privacy.” While Clint was thankful for Stark’s assistance, he hated having anyone watch; especially someone he didn’t really even know. 

“Of course,” Stark actually looked a bit abashed. “Just knock ... or whatever .... on the door when you’re finished.” Stark and Barnes both stepped out, and a few moments later, Clint scratched on the door to signal that he was done with his transformation. 

Clint moved back from the door and sat, panting hard from the strain of shifting. He’d tried to muffle his cries of pain, but soundproofing only went so far. Barnes shot him a sympathetic look as he came back in, which Clint found pleasantly reassuring.

Stark looked Clint up and down, his expression a familiar mix of fascination and trepidation; it was the typical response lycans got to their wolf form, but it didn’t make Clint feel any better. Stark reached over to the counter and took what Clint assumed was the prototype comm set out of a box. He said something — speaking too quickly for Clint to be able to read his lips — then apparently remembered that Clint wouldn’t be able to hear, so he held it up with a questioning gesture. 

Clint nodded his head and made a whuff of agreement. Stark looked at Barnes and raised an eyebrow. Barnes gave him a disdainful look before replying slowly and clearly, “That’s still Agent Barton. He’s not gonna rip your face off.

Stark mumbled something in reply before approaching Clint, who tilted his head obligingly so Stark could slip the commset into his ear. It felt cool and slick, and he instinctively wrinkled his nose in disgust, baring his teeth in the process. Stark, eyes wide with fear, stumbled back a few steps. Clint snorted in amusement; the guy clearly wasn’t as cool and collected as he liked to appear. 

“Is it working?” Stark called out from what he must have considered a safe distance and Clint nodded in reply.

“Does it hurt?” Barnes had donned the companion earpiece and, despite speaking barely over a whisper, Clint had heard him nice and clear. He shook his head, and then Barnes came over to examine the earpiece more closely. 

“Hey, Stark. We’re not gonna be able to put the comm in ourselves once we’ve shifted.” Clint was wondering about that himself. 

“You get that figured out and I’ll hire you on as a consultant,” Stark replied testily. “Or give me a few more years to get my nanotech stable and I’ll design comms that shift with you. In the meanwhile, this is what I got. Here, I’ll step out so you two can do your switcheroos.” Stark stalked over to the door, yanked it open and then not-quite-slammed it shut behind him. 

Barnes grimaced. “And this is why I’m an analyst; I suck at dealing with people. Let me take that out before I shift.” 

Clint once again tilted his head up and Barnes carefully wiggled the earpiece out. Maybe it was Clint’s imagination, but Barnes’ hands seemed to linger, just a moment. 

Clint turned to face the corner as Barnes started to undress, offering what privacy he could while still remaining in the room. He tried very hard not to imagine what was going on behind him as Barnes undressed; objectifying your teammates was not cool. A few moments later, a low, agonized whine — loud enough for even Clint to hear — set his teeth on edge even as his heart went out to his teammate; James clearly had a tough time transforming as well. 

Once James’ shift was complete, Clint turned back around. He was just as handsome in his wolf form as Clint remembered. His glossy coat was the same dark brown as his hair, lightly tipped with grey. Clint breathed in the alpha’s scent; while not as potent as before, it still affected him on a primal level. James panted heavily after the strain of shifting, but nudged Clint towards his pile of clothing, reminding him that he needed to change back. 

Somehow, it wasn’t as uncomfortable to shift in front of James; whether it was because he was a fellow lycan or because Clint was starting to like (and maybe more than like) the guy, he wasn’t sure. He dressed quickly and put his hearing aids back in.  
Turning back around, it dawned on him just how large and imposing James was in his wolf form; his shoulders were nearly hip-high, and if he reared up, could easily look Clint in the face. 

“You ready for this?” 

James yipped and winked mischievously; Clint wondered what he was up to. 

Clint opened the door to see Stark had been joined by a burly, bodyguard type. “Agent Barnes is ready.” Stark’s face grow pale as James slowly stalked toward him from across the room, head low and those grey-blue eyes staring intently at his intended target. His missing paw changed his gait slightly, but he still looked and moved like the apex predator he was. 

“Jesus, Tony.” Stark’s companion muttered, his hand hovering over a holstered tazer on his belt as they both backed out into the hall. 

“That’d just piss him off, trust me,” Clint commented, trying to hide a grin. “ But you got nothin’ to worry about.” He turned to Stark. “Where’s the commset?” Without a word, Stark pointed toward the second box on the counter. 

Clint took the comms out, replaced one aid with the human-sized earpiece then went over to James. “It’s gonna feel a little weird at first. Just give it a few minutes.” He slid the earpiece in, pressing as firmly as Stark had to make a good impression on the putty. James shuddered, and before Clint could stop himself, he ran a reassuring hand down his teammate’s back. “Uh, sorry.” 

But instead of taking offense, James bumped him with a massive shoulder. Clint recognized it as a sign of affection and his face heated slightly. 

“Mind if we actually test this out?” Stark asked, standing just inside the doorway. 

Clint joined him as James crossed back to the other side of the room. “Doing okay?” He murmured.

James nodded, and winked again so only Clint could see it. He then yawned widely, showing every wickedly sharp tooth. “Getting hungry?” Clint asked, loudly enough for Stark and his friend to hear. James nodded, teeth still bared. 

“I think we’ve got all the data we need,” Stark broke in, backing out into the hall again. “If you’d go ahead and retrieve the prototype from Agent Barnes?” 

Clint could barely keep from laughing as he walked back toward James. “You’re my kind of asshole, pal,” he murmured. James in turn chuffed with wolfish laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is coming together kinda slowly - but I do intend on finishing it before the bingo wraps up at the end of March!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint and James work their assignment and get to know one another better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: brief mention of past physical abuse & homophobia

Clint and James wasted no time settling into their roles. James did his best Clark Kent imitation, playing a meek and mild nebbish, even wearing a thick-framed pair of glasses that disguised a Stark-designed commlink. Clint’s clunky over-the-ear aid (which he’d painted purple just because he could) contained the matching link. 

As part of his janitor cover, Clint brought back his midway carnie personality and turned it up a notch; he took an almost aggressively-friendly tone with everyone he met, speaking just a little too loudly and standing just a little too close. It worked exactly as intended, keeping fellow employees at a distance and leaving him at liberty to sneak peeks in drawers while staffers were at lunch or after hours. 

The two of them were booked into the same extended-stay hotel and after discovering that James shared his love of pizza, Clint started joining him over dinner to discuss their findings. At first they relied on delivery and fast food, but then James took advantage of the kitchen facilities to make them meals; Clint was in charge of beverages and desserts. 

By their second weekend, Clint had discovered that his teammate had a wicked sweet tooth, his New York accent got a lot stronger after a couple of beers, and that he went by his childhood nickname ‘Bucky’ with his friends. 

“Where’d that come from?” 

James made a face. “My middle name’s Buchanan - my mom’s maiden name.” 

Clint shrugged. “Could be worse. Could be Francis.” 

“Francis?” James raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

“My grandfather’s name, and my deepest, darkest secret.” Clint replied with a straight face, eliciting a chuckle. 

“Embarrassing middle names for the win.” James held out a fist for Clint to bump. “Honestly, I’m not real fond of James, either. When it’s just you ‘n me, Bucky’s fine.” 

Clint couldn’t help but feel a little thrill at the confirmation of their friendship, even as part of him began longing for something more. What he struggled with was whether it was simply his omega nature being influenced by Bucky being an alpha, or if what he felt was genuine attraction. Either way, he didn’t think it was a good idea to try to act on it any time soon, if at all. 

While they spent most of their evenings back at the hotel, the weekends were a chance to go out and have some fun. Bucky turned out to be an excellent darts player; giving Clint a run for his money at the local bar. He shouldn’t have been surprised -- Bucky had trained as a sniper -- but it was fun to finally have someone who made it a close match. During a late-night match, they ended up talking a little more about their personal lives.

“So, you’re from Brooklyn, right? What was it like, growing up as a lycan in the city?” 

Bucky shrugged. “Don’t have much to compare it to. Prospect Park’s got an area set aside for us werefolk, but it ain’t that big. Plus,” he grimaced, “they make ya wear a bright orange vest.” Clint nodded in agreement; he didn’t care for wearing any kind of harness when he was in wolf form, either. 

“I’ve got a couple of cousins that are lycans too,” Bucky went on, “so it wasn’t too much of a shock when I turned out to be a shifter at age twelve. I’d go out to visit them in the summer at our grandparents’ farm in Indiana. Couple hundred acres, some of it woods — had an agreement with the neighbors that as long as we left their livestock alone and kept the deer out of the corn, they didn’t mind if we ran on their property.” 

“Sounds almost ideal.” 

Bucky smiled wistfully. “Yeah, but Gramps died the summer of my senior year and Gramma sold the farm. Part of the reason I enlisted was the lifetime pass to the sanctuary system, along with money for college.” He glanced down at his prosthetic. “Didn’t exactly think everything through.” After a quiet moment, he asked, “How about you, Clint?” 

Maybe it was the beer getting to him, but Clint finally felt comfortable enough with Bucky to share parts of his past that he usually kept hidden.

“I was a bit older than you when I first shifted. Had no idea what was happening at first, and Dad wasn’t too thrilled, especially with the whole omega deal.” That was an understatement; he’d tried to ‘beat the gay’ out of Clint before his mother stepped in. Not that she fared much better. 

“I’m sorry.” Bucky’s comment was sympathetic, but not pitying, which Clint appreciated. 

“Thanks. Anyways, I ended up -- as my SHIELD file puts it -- ‘a self-emancipated minor employed by an itinerant entertainment endeavor’.” 

Bucky’s forehead furrowed concernedly. “You ran away and joined the circus, huh?” When Clint confirmed his guess, Bucky’s look of concern grew sharper. “Wait - they didn’t put you in the side show, did they?”

“For awhile, yeah,” Clint admitted. “It wasn’t so bad. I got room and board and some spending money for a few hours’ worth of people gawking at me.” He shrugged. “Had to work a lot harder setting up and tearing down the tents. Besides, they had another lycan in the show - he kinda took me under his wing and helped me get things figured out before he moved on.” Breaking Clint’s heart in the process, but that was a story for another time. 

“I played the Big Bad Wolf role for awhile, but once they brought on a were panther, I took a chance and showed the boss what else I could do - trick shooting. It’s the one good thing my dad did for me: taught me to shoot. Rifle and bow and arrow. Spent a couple of weeks putting an act together and I became Hawkeye - The Man Who Never Misses.” 

“Well, that explains your dart skills,” Bucky replied with a grin. “So, some SHIELD agent went to see the circus and scoped you out?” 

“Pretty much.” Clint didn’t feel like mentioning how the circus had become more or less cover for a theft ring, and what his own role in the usual rounds of B&E had been. He’d gotten caught red-handed, but struck a plea deal, incriminating his fellow carnies in exchange for a reduced sentence, which in turn was negated to parole once Coulson got involved. “How’d you get recruited?” 

“It was after all this,” Bucky gestured at his prosthetic, “I’d gotten out of the hospital a few months before and was still tryin’ to figure out what to do next. I think Stevie put in a good word for me.” The affection in Bucky’s voice sent an unaccustomed prickle of jealousy down Clint’s spine. 

“Stevie?” 

“Good friend of mine — she n’ I grew up together. Tiny little gal but tough as nails. Smart as a whip, too. We were gonna enlist together, but the C.I.A came sniffin’ after her instead. She can’t say exactly what she does, and I’m careful not to ask. Next time she’s in town, I’ll introduce ya.” 

Clint couldn’t help but ask, “So, is ‘good friend’ code for an ex?” 

Bucky snorted with amusement. “Nah. First off, she’s practically my sister. Second, neither of us lean the right way to wanna hook up. Thirdly, her fiancée Carol would kick my ass.” 

Clint breathed a sigh of relief; he knew there were some straight alphas who weren’t too picky about what warm, wet omega hole they stuck their dick in, but he’d been fairly sure Bucky wasn’t like that. But before they could continue their conversation, the barkeep rang the bell for last call. 

Over the next two months, Clint and Bucky continued to perform their cover jobs as well as their actual assignment; most of their time spent together over the next two months was focused on determining if there were something underhanded going on at the company. They gradually built a collection of documents proving that material was being diverted, but in order to conclusively prove their case, they’d have to head out to the mine itself. 

They chose a date and familiarized themselves with the area using satellite maps; they both had an almost uncanny sense of direction and picked out a meeting place a few miles southwest of the mine, along an old logging road. Bucky had souped up up a cheap dirt bike for his infil/exfil strategy; he’d be carrying a camera, but that -- other than his glasses commset -- was it in terms of equipment. Clint would be taking on his wolf form to scout things out and keep watch. They worked out a couple of signals, and got up early on a Sunday morning - the mission was on.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint and Bucky’s mission runs a bit off the rails as they make an unwelcome discovery. But there’s a very welcome discovery in store as well.
> 
> NOTE: Attempted sexual assault — relevant text marked off with triple dashes

The reconnaissance mission had gone sideways. Not completely; they’d gotten the last few pieces of evidence they needed and Bucky was making his escape. As for Clint? Well, the plunge into the icy river had pretty much stopped the bleeding from the bullet graze as well as shaken the dogs off his trail. 

“Hawkeye, you alright?” Bucky’s voice, underscored by the rumble of the dirt bike, came over the comms. 

Clint quietly yipped a Morse code K, their agreed-upon signal. It wasn’t a lie, not exactly. He’d need a bit of patching up, sure, but he’d had worse. “Same here,” Bucky replied. “I’m circling back around -- probably ten minutes out. See you there?” 

Clint responded with another K; he’d gotten his bearings when he found the logging road that would take him back to their meeting point. It was little more than a two-track, winding through the thick woods, a challenge even for the rugged pickup truck they’d bought off of a local just the day before. On their way in, they’d had to stop multiple times to clear fallen branches and trees, as well as the occasional sapling that had grown up in the middle of the road; it helped confirm he wasn’t far away. 

A few minutes later, Bucky checked in. “Back to the truck. Gonna start uploading the photos.” Clint whuffed an acknowledgement, and kept moving. He stopped to catch his breath as he came over the rise and spotted their pickup. A sudden breeze wafted Bucky’s scent to Clint, wrapping him in a sense of _safe_ and _home_ before setting low in his gut in an all-too familiar ache. 

Stunned, Clint counted the weeks since his last heat; it should have been at least two weeks off, but either the stress of the mission or his unaccustomed association with a familiar alpha had thrown him off schedule. Before he could think about how this unwelcome visitor would impact the camaraderie he and Bucky had developed, Clint caught an unexpected glint of light out of the corner of his eye.

A large grey figure was stalking towards his teammate, who in turn was too focused on getting their equipment to connect to be completely aware of his surroundings. Clint couldn’t bark a warning without alerting the invader as well, so he sprinted down the hill on an intercept path. He met his target just a few yards away from Bucky; barreling into the other lycan with a snarl and tumbling them both across the clearing. 

His opponent was an alpha, bigger and stronger and better rested than he was, and to Clint’s utter shock someone he recognized: Jack Rollins. One of Rumlow’s teammates, he and Clint had crossed paths on occasion back at headquarters, including a couple of training sessions in their wolf forms, so Clint recognized him by both sight and scent.

Clint had no time to think about what the other agent’s presence meant to their mission before Rollins scrambled back to his feet and attacked. He wore a thick, leather collar with a silver pendant that flashed in the morning sun. Clint had no such protection and his opponent latched onto one side of his scruff, perilously close to his bonding gland.

\- - -

The alpha’s ominous growl changed pitch and Rollins dug his claws into Clint’s haunches, pushing him to the ground and making him vulnerable to a different kind of attack. As the sharp scent of Rollins’ rut filled Clint’s nostrils, every instinct rebelled at what was sure to come next; but if he accepted the inevitable, it would buy some time and keep Bucky safe. 

\- - -

“Get away from him or I’ll shoot.” Bucky’s command was full of deadly alpha menace as he coolly leveled a gun at the two of them. Rollins responded by hauling Clint back to his feet in order to use him as a shield. The alpha’s fangs sunk further into muscle and scraped against Clint’s collarbone; he stifled a howl of pain and instead froze, trusting in his partner’s unerring aim. He gave Bucky the briefest of nods as their eyes met. _Take the shot._

Clint held his breath, waiting for the sharp report; a moment later, Rollins’ jaw relaxed, loosing his hold on Clint’s scruff as he collapsed to the ground. Off-balance, Clint pitched forward and Bucky skidded to a stop next to him, dropping to his knees. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Voice shaking with emotion, Bucky frantically ran his hands over Clint, taking note of each injury. “I used the icer; I couldn’t take a chance of hurting you.” 

It was a relief to know that Bucky hadn’t actually killed a fellow SHIELD agent, only knocked him out for an hour or so. They’d still have a hell of a lot of explaining to do, though. Clint nudged Bucky towards Rollins; he showed no sign of recognizing the lycan, but looked curiously at the collar, reaching out to examine the pendant more closely. 

Turning it over, he sucked in a breath. “Oh shit.” 

Clint looked over his shoulder and growled at the sight of the Hydra insignia embossed on it. This looked bad; making their situation a hundred times more complicated. He took a few steps back away from Bucky and focused on what he needed to do next. It was going to hurt. A lot.

A few minutes later, Clint was back in his human form, on all fours and panting from the effort. Bucky threw a blanket over his shoulders and held out a bottle of water, both retrieved from the pickup. “What’s wrong?” Most lycans stayed in wolf form if they’d been injured, since shifting took a lot of energy; Bucky knew Clint's transformation meant there was a big problem.

Clint downed half the bottle in a single swig, then gestured towards the other lycan and gasped out, “That’s Jack Rollins. A SHIELD agent. Gotta talk to Coulson.” Bucky frowned as he helped Clint to his feet and put pressure on the bite to slow the bleeding as they walked over to the truck. 

After putting his hearing aid back in, Clint placed a voice-only speaker call; most of their precarious bandwidth needed to be dedicated to uploading the photos and video Bucky had taken. 

“Barton?” Coulson clearly wasn’t expecting a call from them this early. 

“Were any other agents assigned to this op?”

“No - just you and Barnes. Why?” 

“Jack Rollins is here. Came after us in wolf form as we wrapped our recon mission at the mine. Had to ice him. Thought at first he assumed we were bad guys, but he’s wearing Hydra insignia.”

“Hmm.” Coulson was quiet for a moment. “Need me to send in the cavalry?” 

“We’re okay,” Clint responded, ignoring Bucky’s meaningful glare, “but I’m not sure we’re equipped to deal with any squids, especially if double agents are involved. So, yeah. Handing things over to you, sir. 

“Understood. May and her team will be there within the hour. Secure Rollins, but otherwise consider your mission complete. Well done.”

“Thank you, sir. We’ll coordinate with them when they arrive.” Clint ended the call, suddenly dizzy from exhaustion. 

Bucky had retrieved and unpacked the med kit in the meanwhile; he reached out to steady Clint before pulling back the bloodstained corner of the blanket. “Lemme take a look at that, pal.” He briskly cleaned Clint’s wounds with disinfectant wipes and applied bandages, including a loose dressing over the bite at the join of his neck and shoulder. “How’s that?” 

“Better, thanks.” Clint inhaled deeply, trying to take comfort in Bucky’s scent, even though it was much harder to detect while in human form. 

“Good. Sit here and get dressed while I tie Rollins up.” Bucky said curtly, tossing a duffel bag at Clint’s feet. Something was clearly bothering him — Clint knew what an upset alpha smelled like, and Bucky’s scent was shot through with anger and fear. Clint himself was having a tough time keeping himself together as the events of the last hour or so crashed in on him; he was sure he stank of both those emotions himself.

While Clint put his clothes back on, Bucky took a length of rope out of the back of their pickup and tied Rollins to a tree so that even if he shifted back to human form, he’d still be secured. Turning back to face Clint, he quietly asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you were so close to going into heat?” 

“I didn’t know!” Clint replied defensively. “It hit me all of a sudden. Besides, what would you have done? Taken the mission over because an omega clearly can’t handle running an op when he’s in that condition?” 

“That’s not —“ Bucky started to say, but Clint couldn’t stop himself; all his pent-up emotions boiling over. 

“If we hadn’t had the icer what would you have done? Shifted and fought Rollins yourself?” 

“Yes! He was about to —“ 

“Yeah, he was,” Clint shot back. “And guess what? I was ready to let him do it in order to protect the mission. And you, for that matter. Sorry if that offends your precious alpha ego. Just because we fucked a couple of months ago doesn’t mean you own me.” 

The stunned, distraught expression on his friend’s face shocked Clint into silence. He’d clearly gone too far. He wanted Bucky to care for him, wanted it so badly that he could taste it. Instead he’d just driven his partner further away with every word. 

Bucky leaned heavily against the side of the pickup and scrubbed his hand over his face. “You’re right. I can see why you made that call. And I don't have any claim on you, either." He took a deep breath. "It's just ... I was afraid you didn’t want me to know you were going into your heat. Because you didn’t want me.” 

Before Clint could tell him he couldn’t be further from the truth, Bucky went on. “I wish... I wish that we’d met for the first time there in the conference room instead of the sanctuary. That way I could be sure that what I feel for you is real instead of some alpha/omega hormone bullshit.” 

He turned to look at Clint, his storm-blue eyes full of emotion. “You’re funny, and clever, and kind, Clint. You never gave this,” he waved his prosthetic hand around, “a second glance. And you’re good-lookin’, too.” He shook his head ruefully. “Figures I’d find a way to screw up the best thing to happen to me in years.” 

Clint reached out and put a hand on Bucky's shoulder. “You didn’t screw up a damn thing, Buck. Not like I just did. I don’t know what got into me; I’m so, so sorry. I know you better than that by now. Guess it’s true what they say about bitchy omegas.” 

“No, I get it. You got every reason to be on edge right now. But we did it. We got what we came for.” Bucky looked over at Rollins. “And a hell of a lot more.” 

“In more ways than one, handsome.” As Bucky gave him an almost comically startled look, Clint took his hands and laced their fingers together. “You aren’t the only one around here with a crush on his partner. Or who wondered just how much of it was hormone-driven. But you know what? I don’t give a damn if it means I can be yours.” 

Clint leaned in, hoping he wasn’t pushing his companion too far or too fast, especially after the hurtful words he’d said. His heart soared when Bucky met him halfway. The kiss was a bit awkward, as most first kisses are; but the next one quickly turned from careful and cautious to deep and passionate, with Bucky’s alpha scent rising strong and enveloping them both. 

Clint broke off the kiss to murmur, “Think May would mind too much if we just left a note?” There’s a nice looking cave not too far away from here. It’d make a great mating den.” 

Bucky pulled away, albeit reluctantly, a faint set of frown lines between his brows. “I don’t think you’re in any shape to shift again right now, sweetheart. You need a good meal and some sleep before we do anything like that. But I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

Clint couldn’t help but pout a little, but Bucky was right. Besides, he was pretty sure whatever happened, it would be worth the wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the chapter count increased again - but I’m still on track to finish this fic by the end of the bingo :: fingers crossed::


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Senior Agent May’s team takes Rollins off Bucky and Clint’s hands; Bucky makes plans to take care of Clint.

They waited in the cab of the pickup; Bucky holding Clint as close as both his injuries and the bench seat would allow. Clint reveled in their new-found intimacy, breathing in the scent that told him he was safe, that he was cared for. 

As if to distract Clint from the fever and chills that alternately wracked his system, Bucky shared that his visit to the sanctuary had been the first time he’d gone looking for a rut partner since he’d lost his hand. “Figured that way I wouldn’t have to talk about it, or answer questions. I can deal with rejection, but not pity.”

Clint’s heart went out to his companion, even as he could understand the sentiment. “I get that. It’s easier for me to head out to the sanctuary, too.”

“Until you run into the alpha again in your real life,” Bucky replied with a hint of a tease in his voice. 

“Turned out okay, though, don’t you think?” Clint leaned into Bucky with a grin. 

“Sure do.” He dropped a kiss on Clint’s smiling lips before saying, “I better go check on Rollins. Make sure he’s still trussed up.” 

Clint took advantage of Bucky’s absence to chow down on a protein bar; he was famished after his exertions. He also used the mirror to check on the bite Rollins had given him, gingerly lifting up a corner of the dressing. It looked pretty bad, skin torn and ragged around the punctures, with a deep ache of muscle damage. But the bleeding had nearly stopped; a good meal and some rest would kickstart the healing nicely.

Bucky tapped on the window, and Clint opened the door. “He’s starting to come around already; can’t tell if he’ll shift or not, so I’m gonna stay out here and keep an eye on him. How we doing on time?”

Clint checked the clock on the dash. “Maybe another fifteen minutes?” But as soon as he spoke, there was a low rumble that Clint recognized as an incoming quintet. “Or maybe not. I’ll go wave them down while you keep an eye on Rollins.” 

“Sounds good.” As he got out of the truck, Bucky leaned in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. Feeling like a giddy teenager, Clint followed the sound over to a nearby clearing, where the SHIELD team was already exiting the plane. 

Senior Agent May called out a greeting. “So, Barton, I understand you’ve uncovered a turncoat?” 

“I don’t know what we’ve found, to be honest.” As they walked back to the truck, Clint caught her up on the events of the morning. Bucky added details from his point of view while the SHIELD team took Rollins into their custody. He was still in wolf-form, but starting to stir, so they wrapped him in a net to carry him back to the quinjet. 

May’s sharp eyes had noted Clint’s injuries, and she called out, “Simmons, could you grab a medkit and give Agent Barton a once-over?” A young woman darted back into the plane and returned a few moments later with a bag in hand. 

With a thick Scottish accent, she introduced herself as Jemma. “I understand you and Agent Barnes are both lycans as well. Were either of you shifted at the time of the attack?” 

“I was, yes. Bucky, I mean, Agent Barnes wasn’t.” Jemma raised an eyebrow, but simply asked him to sit on the edge of the ramp and take off his shirt. He did as he was told and she started her exam; asking about his injuries. He reeled them off, finishing with Rollins’ bite. She leaned over to look more closely at the wound. “What about this, then?” She ran cool fingers over his tender, swollen bonding gland, and Clint bit back an instinctive moan. 

Jemma quickly withdrew her hands, and her thoughtful expression grew concerned as she noticed the claw marks on his sides that disappeared below his waistband. “Do you have any ... more personal injuries I should be aware of?” 

“I wasn’t sexually assaulted, if that’s what you’re asking,” Clint snapped, keeping his voice low. He preferred that as few people know about his omega status as possible.

“I’m glad to hear that,” she replied evenly. “It’s just that as you’re clearly showing signs of estrus, and with Rollins and Barnes both being alphas ...” 

“I’m fine,” Clint insisted, not wanting to get into what had just happened with a complete stranger, even if she was a medic. “Well, except for what you’ve already seen. The bite up here,” he pointed at his shoulder,” is probably the worst of it.” 

“Well, then, let me take a closer look.” She peeled back the dressing and inspected the wound closely. “There’s some muscle damage, and torn skin. I’d like to clean these more thoroughly, put in a few stitches to tack them shut, and then apply some butterfly bandages on that graze on your back, all right?” 

Clint shrugged, then winced at the pain the movement had caused. “You’re the doctor.” She was careful and thorough, taking her time with patching him up. In the meanwhile, the rest of the team had secured Rollins and Bucky was all but pacing around the clearing. 

The moment Jemma was done, Bucky hurried over, his scent tinged with worry. “May said they’d take care of things from here and we’re off the case.” He helped Clint back to his feet, keeping a tight hold of Clint’s hand even after he was done. 

Jemma glanced between them, but before she could say anything, Clint broke in. “Thanks, Doc. Guess we’ll be going.” 

“You be careful, Agent Barton. I realize you have accelerated healing powers, but—” 

“Got it,” he responded tightly. “Looks like everyone else is waiting on you.” She finally seemed to get the hint, and packed up a few medical supplies for Clint to take with him. 

Even though it was just a short walk to where their pickup was parked, Clint was exhausted by the time they got back; the last dregs of adrenaline finally working their way out of his system. It didn’t help that he’d been hit with a bout of cramps that practically doubled him over; Bucky had offered a steadying arm, and rubbed his lower back until they subsided.

As they climbed back into the pickup, Bucky suggested getting something to eat, if Clint felt up to it. “I think I remember a place out on the main road.” 

“Sounds good.” Clint replied as he wadded up the scratchy blanket and tucked it between his head and the door, wrinkling his nose at the lingering smell of blood. He managed to nod off despite the bumpy ruts of the logging road, only waking once they came to a stop in the parking lot of the diner. The nap had helped, but now he was absolutely ravenous. 

It was still early in the day, so Clint ordered the breakfast special: eggs, fried potatoes, sausage and bacon and a short stack of pancakes, while Bucky got a double stack of pancakes and a side of bacon. They kept their conversation light over the meal, not wanting to dwell on their mission or break the spell of what was building between them. 

Once they were done and were back in the pickup, Bucky didn’t start the vehicle right away, instead turning to Clint. “There’s a sanctuary about two hours north of here, with a lycan-friendly bed and breakfast right next door. If you want me as your heat partner—“

“Of course I do, Buck.” Clint broke in.

Bucky’s relieved smile lit up his face. “Well, then, we could stay the night at the B&B, then in the morning, head to the sanctuary, shift and find a mating den. Or...” He trailed off. 

“Or?” 

“Or we stay at the bed and breakfast as we are and spend the next few days together.” The touch of alpha rumble in his voice combined with a hint of rut in his scent sent pleasant shivers down Clint’s spine, but it was clear that Bucky was leaving the choice up to him. 

It was that consideration that made the decision easier than Clint would have ever suspected. “I’d like that.” He followed his declaration with a kiss, humming encouragingly as Bucky brought a hand up to caress his cheek. The kiss grew heated, and they were both breathing hard by the time they broke it off. “We better get going before we steam up the windows too bad.” 

Bucky chuckled. “Your wish is my command, but I want to make one more stop.” They drove down the town’s Main Street— all four blocks of it— and found the all-purpose pharmacy, grocery and hardware store. “Wait here, darlin’.” 

Clint turned the radio on and let his eyes drift closed, blinking back to alertness when Bucky returned with multiple bags. “Here ya go.” He pulled out a soft, colorful blanket along with a cartoon character pillow. “Wasn’t much to choose from, but these have gotta be better than that ratty old thing.” 

Bucky pointed to the old blanket and made a ‘gimme’ gesture, so Clint traded him for the new items. He tucked the pillow behind his head and wrapped the soft, fluffy blanket around his shoulders. “They’re great. Thanks.” 

“Got this too.” Bucky held out a package labeled ‘Hot Seat’. “It’s a battery powered heating pad. S’meant for hunters, but I thought it might help. Got the batteries, too. And some more stuff to drink, and snacks.” 

“You used to be a Boy Scout, didn’t you?” Clint teased. “Seriously, thank you. I really appreciate it.” 

“Just wanted to help. Wish I could do more.” At Bucky’s shy smile and blush in reply, it dawned on Clint that these were a kind of courting gift, and his heart skipped a beat. 

“They’re just what I need right now. And so are you.” As Bucky’s blush deepened; Clint couldn’t help but steal another kiss, even as one of the local residents walking by shot them a disapproving look. “Let’s get going.” 

Clint tucked himself up as close to Bucky as the seatbelt would allow; Bucky in turn broke the 'both hands on the steering wheel' rule by putting his arm around Clint. As they got out on the main road, the hum of the tires on the asphalt lulled Clint into a doze, and before he knew it, they were pulling into the bed and breakfast driveway. “I called ahead when I was in the store to make a reservation,” Bucky explained as they walked up to the rambling farmhouse. “ Told the owner we were on the way.”

A moment after they rang the doorbell, an older woman opened the door. “May I help you gentlemen?” 

“I’m James Barnes. I called about an hour ago?” 

“Oh yes!” She beamed. “My nephew, Peter, is getting the cabin aired out for you as we speak.” She turned to Clint. “I’m May, May Parker.” 

“Clint Barton. Thanks for letting us stay on such short notice.” 

“It’s my pleasure. I understand you’ll be here for several days?” Clint tried not to take her question personally; of course she needed to know how long they were going to be here, so she could plan appropriately for other incoming guests. 

“If it’s not too much trouble,” he replied politely.

“Not at all. We enjoy the company, even though I imagine you’ll probably be keeping mostly to yourselves. Just give me a call when you’re ready for breakfast in the morning and one of us will bring it over. There’s a couple of places in town that deliver out here, too. Now, let’s get that pesky paperwork taken care of.” She gestured them over to a paper-strewn desk and a few minutes later, they had a set of keys, as well as some take-out menus and a baggie of home-baked cookies. 

The door behind them flew open and a boy barely in his teens bounced in. “All set up, Aunt May. Lots of extra towels, just like you said.” Clint felt his cheeks heat up; Bucky had clearly explained to Ms. Parker what their situation was. 

“Thank you, Peter. Don’t you have some homework to get to?” 

“Yes,” he grumbled, heading into the main part of the house; Clint and Bucky took the opportunity to take their leave as well. The cozy-looking cabin was just far enough away to allow for some privacy while still clearly being part of the Parker property. Despite the rustic exterior, the inside was well-cared for, with a kitchenette in one corner and a king-sized bed.

They set their duffles on the dresser, next to the extra set of sheets; Clint peeked into the the bathroom, which was simple and dated, but sparkling clean, with a stack of fluffy towels on the counter. “How ya feelin’ sweetheart?” Bucky asked, sliding one arm around Clint’s waist. 

“Like I need a shower.” Between the swim in the river, the fight with Rollins and the subsequent slathering with antiseptic, Clint felt downright gross. Considering that he and Bucky were going to be getting intimate — hopefully sooner than later — he wanted to be prepared.

“Sure that’s okay, what with that bite you’ve got?” Bucky asked concernedly. 

“I’ll be careful, and Jemma gave me stuff to patch it back up.” 

“‘Jemma’, huh?” Bucky growled with more than a hint of jealousy. 

“You don’t have a thing to worry about, babe. I’ve only got eyes for you. And all of this,” Clint waggled his ass, “that you can handle.” 

Bucky grinned as he cupped the offered-up body part, sending a jolt of arousal up Clint’s spine. “Wanna do more than handle this, gorgeous. How about you go get cleaned up, then? I’ll do the same in the sink over here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter on the way - that’s where the “eventual smut” finally kicks in.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a moment of body insecurity on Bucky’s part, Clint and Bucky finally fulfill their natures and make love again. 
> 
> WinterHawk Bingo - Riding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the rating change - this chapter is pretty much smut. :^)

Clint took a quick but thorough shower, being careful with both his bite wound and his bonding gland; the former because it still hurt to touch and the latter because it felt a little too good. Once he was done, he dug through his duffle, looking for his least-ratty pair of boxer briefs; he didn’t want to assume too much about their first night together.

Pulse racing as much from nerves as arousal, Clint stepped back into the room, towel slung over his good shoulder. Bucky was just finishing up at the kitchenette; he was shirtless and had changed into sleep pants that hung low on his hips. 

Clint drank in the sight of his alpha companion; broad shoulders, slim hips and long, muscular legs. Grey blue eyes he could lose himself in, and dark, wavy hair he wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through. But the scars that wreathed his partner’s arm caught Clint’s eye as well, and Bucky noticed. 

“Was tryin’ to decide whether to leave this on or not,” he said, running his hand over the prosthetic. “Either way, you’re still dealing with damaged goods.” 

“Hey now, sweetheart, don’t go there,” Clint reached out to take both of Bucky’s hands in his. “I’d say it doesn’t matter, but that’s not quite true. I wish, for your sake, that you hadn’t lost your hand -- god knows it’s made your life harder.” Clint tapped at his hearing aid. “I know a little something about that, too.” Bucky nodded in acknowledgement. 

“But when it comes down to it, this,” and Clint twined his fingers between those of Bucky’s prosthetic, “is just one part of the guy I’m falling hard and fast for.” He kissed Bucky lightly on the cheek. “So do whatever’s gonna make you comfortable, okay? I’m good either way. ” 

Clint moved back to give Bucky some space. He in turn took a deep breath, then blew it out before detaching the prosthetic and setting it aside. His stump was pale and scarred, and Bucky held it close, wrapping his hand around as if to shield it from view. 

“It didn’t bother me the last time we got it on, babe,” Clint murmured reassuringly, holding his own hand out. 

“Yeah, but you were--” 

“Swear to god, Barnes, if you say ‘heat-addled’, I will kick your alpha ass into next Tuesday.” Clint lightly punched Bucky’s shoulder to punctuate his mock-challenge. 

“Like to see ya try,” Bucky shot back with a grin. In response, Clint tackle-hugged Bucky who in turn delivered a searing, almost defiant kiss. The skin to skin contact took Clint’s breath away just as much as the kiss itself. 

As their heated embrace continued, Clint’s cock strained against the front of his boxers and further back, his slick was leaving a damp spot on the fabric. Bucky’s arousal was physically clear as well; his hot, hard length grinding against Clint’s thigh. But Bucky stopped suddenly, and with a guilty glance at Clint’s shoulder, said, “Shoulda patched that up for you before I took my hand off.” 

“We can do it together.” They dug into the supplies Jemma had given them; dressing the wound —if a little awkwardly. Bucky then insisted on checking over the rest of Clint’s injuries. His expression grew stormy as he examined the claw marks, then hummed with concern when he ran gentle fingers over the deeper mark across Clint’s back. 

“Gonna kiss it and make it better?” Clint joked, only to gasp with pleasure as Bucky scraped his teeth against the sensitive skin behind his ear, then ran his tongue over the mark to soothe it. 

“You taste as good as you smell, darlin’,” he murmured, “and I want to taste it all. Lick your cock like a lollipop and swallow it down to the root.” 

“And then make me come once you’re deep inside me?” Clint asked breathlessly, knees going weak at the thought.

“Whatever you want, doll.” He walked Clint backwards toward the bed, their mouths crashing together in a tangle of tongues and teeth. Bucky broke off the kiss and growled, “Get those off and sit on the edge.” For once, Clint didn’t mind being bossed around by an alpha; he skinned out of his briefs and laid a towel down before doing as he was told. 

Bucky knelt in front of Clint, pushing his knees apart. He ran his hand up one thigh and, after a moment of hesitation, rested his stump on the other. Clint’s whine of anticipation deepened to a throaty moan as Bucky ran his tongue up Clint’s achingly hard cock. Steadying its base with thumb and finger, Bucky wrapped his lips around the tip and suckled just hard enough to make Clint’s toes curl. 

“God, yes, please.” Clint begged, clutching desperately at the bedsheets. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t gotten — and given — blowjobs during the occasional one-night stand but this was so much more intense. Whether it was because of his heat or because he was with someone he cared about he wasn’t sure. Maybe both. 

But he needed more; even as Bucky deepthroated his cock, nose pressing up against his pubes, the hollow ache inside him was begging to be filled. “Touch me, please, Buck. Finger me, stretch me out so I can take your knot.” 

Bucky froze, then raised his head to look Clint in the eyes. “Are you sure, sweetheart?” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time, now would it?” Admittedly, it was different when you were shifted; animal instinct taking over with neither pain nor pleasure a concern, only need. 

“No, but I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“That’s what foreplay’s for, babe.” Clint cupped Bucky’s cheek. “Besides, I trust you. I know you’ll do your best to make it good for me, Buck. And I want it to be good for you, too.” 

“Gimme a sec, then.” Bucky rose to his feet and rummaged in a bag from the store before returning with a bottle of lube and a box of condoms cradled in the crook of his arm. “Got these just in case.” 

“You’ve got me plenty wet already, gorgeous,” Clint purred, “and I haven’t been with anyone since my Sanctuary visit.” They both knew the requirements of the system: recent, clear STD test reports as well as proof of contraception.

“Me either. But I wanted to give you the option.” Clint’s heart warmed once again at Bucky’s thoughtfulness. “So, you ready?” 

“God, yes. But hold off on the rest of the blowjob for now. I don’t want to come til we’re...” Clint hesitated, as ‘fucking’ sounded too crude, too casual. 

“Making love?” Bucky murmured, his eyes so bright they practically glowed. 

“Yes. Touch me.” Clint closed his eyes and leaned back on his elbows, spreading his legs and propping one heel up on the bed to give Bucky more room. A moment later, he gasped as Bucky pressed a gentle finger, cool with lube, to his entrance. It slid inside easily, with just a hint of burn and stretch. Clint moaned throatily, “More, alpha, please.” 

He hadn’t meant to say it; to make himself so vulnerable. But it felt right, and the soft “Be patient, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” of his partner’s reply was all the reassurance he needed. Clint let himself relax into a haze of pleasure and arousal under Bucky’s touch, their mingled scents rising thick in the air.

“Look at you, darling. Opening up so sweet,” Bucky crooned as he slid a second, then third finger inside Clint. “Can’t wait to feel you all around me. Give you everything you need.” He peppered kisses and gentle nips on Clint’s thigh, making him writhe and moan. 

“I’m ready,” Clint panted. “Make me yours.” Clint whimpered slightly as Bucky withdrew his fingers, but he got to his feet, turning toward the bed to bend over and get into position. 

“Wait, darling.” Bucky stopped him with a hand on his hip. “I wanna kiss you, see your face.” He slid his sleep pants off. “How about you ride me?” 

Clint nodded, struck dumb at the sight and scent of the alpha before him, his gorgeous cock jutting proudly out from a nest of dark curls. “Gonna need to hear a ‘yes’, sweetheart.” Bucky murmured as he stretched out on the bed, shoving pillows under his shoulders. 

“Yes, alpha. Please.” Clint leaned over to claim a passionate kiss, then, unable to resist, moved his mouth further down his bedmate’s body . Bucky clutched at the sheets and swore as Clint swirled his tongue around the tip of his cock before taking him deep. 

“You are a goddamned menace, Barton,” Bucky growled, tugging Clint up on top of him. He went easily, unable to keep a smug grin from his face even as a hot wave of need flooded his body. Clint straddled Bucky, a whine of anticipation building in his throat. Part of him wanted nothing more than to impale himself on his alpha’s rock hard cock, but Bucky’s firm touch at his hips stilled him.

“Nice and slow, darlin’. We got all night for this.” Bucky was right; they needed to take their time. Despite the foreplay, the initial burn and stretch as Bucky breached him made Clint gasp. 

“Keep breathing, sweetheart.” Bucky’s chest heaved as well; he was clearly holding himself back from thrusting in hard and deep as he surely wanted to. Clint focused on relaxing as he slid down, inch by inch, and Bucky murmured words of praise and encouragement.

“You’re taking me so well, darlin’. So sweet, and hot. Feels like heaven, finally bein’ inside you again.” His voice was rough with lust, and Clint melted at the sound. 

When they were finally joined, Clint let out a shuddering breath; that aching, empty spot inside him now filled. But it wasn’t quite enough. Clint took Bucky’s hand and placed it on the back of his neck. “Tell me I’m yours, alpha.” 

Bucky’s eyes widened as his fingers traced the edges of Clint’s hot, swollen bonding gland. “Yes, you are mine, darlin’, for as long as you want to be. Such a brave, strong, clever omega. Dunno how I got so lucky.” 

Clint arched into the touch, caught between two points of pleasure. “I’m the lucky one, here. How about you take me for that ride?” 

Bucky bucked his hips even as he pressed firmly on the nape of his omega’s neck. Clint moaned with pleasure as they started to move in unison in that ancient dance. And when Bucky pulled his knees up to further cradle Clint’s body, the change in angle meant that with every thrust, Bucky’s cock was hitting that sweet spot inside. 

Clint’s climax built up in him almost too quickly; he tried to stave it off, wanting nothing more than to live in the moment for as long as possible. He’d forgotten how good it could be, to make love in human form instead of rutting like animals. “I’m so close,” he groaned, “please, don’t stop.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.” Bucky’s eyes were alight with desire as he took hold of Clint’s cock. With a few expert strokes, he pushed Clint over the edge. A wordless shout pushed from his lips as Bucky continued to piston up into him, keeping a steady rhythm even as Clint shuddered and shook helplessly in the throes of the most powerful orgasm he could remember. 

“I’m right on the edge,” Bucky said, his voice tight. “Tell me if you want me to pull out, darlin’.” 

“Oh hell no.” Clint growled. There was no way he’d deny his alpha, not after Bucky had given him so much love and care. Besides, his body was ready, still hot with desire even after such a mind-blowing orgasm. He ground down on Bucky, riding him hard even as his alpha’s thrusts grew erratic. 

“Oh fuck, here I come,” Bucky groaned, clutching at Clint’s hip hard enough to leave a bruise. He made one last deep thrust, back arching strongly enough to lift them both off the bed. Clint struggled to keep his balance, gasping sharply as Bucky’s knot started to form. 

It hurt, yes, but it wasn’t as bad as he’d feared; more of an intense sensation that rode the razor’s edge between pleasure and pain. Clint panted softly, letting his body adapt to the swelling cock inside him. 

“You okay, darlin’?” Bucky’s concerned question broke though his post-orgasmic haze. 

“Yeah. It’s just ... a lot. Gimme a sec.” The more he relaxed, the better it felt, the stretch somehow satisfying a bone-deep need. 

“Take all the time you need. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Bucky drawled, a loose, lazy smile on his face. “Can’t remember the last time I felt like this.”

“Like what?” 

“Like I was right where I was supposed to be.”

“I know what you mean.” Clint said, shifting as best he could to lay his head on Bucky’s shoulder. “Wish I could stay here forever, in your arms.” 

“That sounds pretty good to me, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who joined me for this fic - both the Constant Readers who waited patiently for the irregular updates and those of you who joined now that it’s complete. 
> 
> And thanks to the organizers of the WinterHawk bingo who allowed me to explore this pairing in more depth than I would have otherwise! 
> 
> Come say hi over on [ Tumblr](%E2%80%9C)!


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